


Anima Sola

by lalejandra



Category: The OC (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kissing, Masturbation, Other, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-22
Updated: 2003-12-22
Packaged: 2019-07-14 09:07:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16037324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalejandra/pseuds/lalejandra
Summary: Anna found herself someone to kiss at midnight on New Year's Eve... but it wasn't enough.





	Anima Sola

Anna knew logically that it was three a.m. and Seth's parents had already gone to bed -- and even if they hadn't, they'd be more proud than scandalized to find her coming out of Seth's room rumpled and flushed with hickeys on her neck. But old habits die hard, which was why she was padding down the hallway, dodging party debris, with her heels in one hand and her nylons crumpled into a ball at the bottom of her purse instead of in Seth's trashcan. It just wouldn't do for someone to see them there and. And what? And see them there, that's what. "It would be improper," Anna had said to Seth, and heard her grandmother's pious tones in her head, and winced. Sometimes there was no escaping genetics.

She couldn't focus all of her energy on being worried about getting caught, though, because she was too worried about what she was going to tell Summer. They'd made a pact, and Anna had broken it. Anna knew that a pact between girls, especially rival girls, was more sacred than a marriage vow, and yet she'd broken it for a few hours of making out. Stellar making out, for sure -- Seth was an excellent kisser, really focused on _her_ \-- but was it worth resuming hostilities with Summer?

She couldn't even focus all her energy on being worried about Summer, because she was tight and brittle, and stretched too thin over her bones. Seth had stopped their makeout session before it got too heavy, and now her legs were weak and she was tottering -- and kind of glad that she was worried about getting caught and not wearing her heels, because she might have fallen over.

Anna was lost in thought when a shadow loomed in front of her, and she swallowed a scream.

"There's broken glass here."

"You scared me!" whispered Anna furiously.

Ryan only raised his eyebrows.

"I mean it," she insisted. "Don't do that again."

"Sorry," Ryan said, but it was apparent to Anna that he really wasn't, and she frowned, then slipped her feet into her shoes, hand out against the hallway wall.

Ryan was eating ice cream straight from the carton, and not wearing a shirt, and barely wearing his jeans, and that only made her scowl more. Ryan shouldn't be walking around almost naked, even if it was his house. That wasn't fair; that was stacking the deck.

 _Well_ , Summer would say, _what do you expect from Chino?_

Her grandmother would say, _Blood tells_ , and look meaningfully at Anna's mother.

Sometimes Anna thinks maybe she likes Summer because Summer is like her grandmother, unashamed, but cool and beautiful instead of mean and old and ugly.

Anna rested a fist on her hip and stared at Ryan. "I can't leave until you get out of my way." Her voice is cooler than she intends because she's still burning inside -- and annoyed with Seth for falling asleep -- and she hears her grandmother's voice in her head again. "Please."

"Sorry." Ryan stepped back and gestured for her to walk in front of him. She did, making sure to swing her hips a little more, bend her knees a bit deeper. She was angry and feeling antagonistic, and she wanted to hurt someone. It might as well be Ryan if it couldn't be Seth. She turned around.

"So I heard about you and Marissa." She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "You didn't come to the party."

"I did. Just in time for the midnight kiss." Ryan lounged against the wall, spoon in mouth. Spoon. In. Mouth. Anna forced her mind back onto Seth, and away from Ryan's shoulders. And mouth. Spoon. In. Mouth.

"Lucky you." When did Anna become fascinated with Ryan's mouth? Had she ever noticed his mouth before? No -- except for that it was thin, and harsh, and went well with his slightly bumpy nose.

"Looks like you had yourself a midnight kiss, too." Ryan flicked his eyes down her legs, then back up to her neck.

"Looks like I did."

"So Summer backed off your pact?"

Anna controlled her flinch -- hopefully before Ryan saw it. Barb for barb, she reminded herself. "So Marissa doesn't care that you didn't say 'I love you'?"

Ryan did a better job of not flinching, but his jaw clenched as he scooped up another spoonful of ice cream. "I actually did tell her." He licked the ice cream off the bottom of the spoon. Strawberry. Anna's favorite.

"But you don't." She shifted her weight to her other foot and cocked out one hip, purse tucked under her arm. The heels made her legs look so long, she knew -- and Seth drooled over them when she helped him with the trash. Barb for barb included looking sexy. If he was going to lick spoons, she was going to show off her legs.

"I do."

"No you don't."

"I do."

"Then why weren't you planning for it? Why did you wait until she said it to you to say it back? How did you just decide you loved her in less than twenty-four hours?" Anna raised her eyebrows to match his. Now _he_ was scowling and she was smirking. Anna: 2; Ryan: 1.

Okay, Ryan: 3, because he had the spoon and the shoulders, and she only had her legs. He was still one up. Not for long.

"But I'm sure that's okay. Oliver was very comforting." Anna spun on her heel and took another step, intent on getting out of the house before Ryan could break their tie.

" _Hey_."

Of course, she stopped. When he used that tone of voice, who wouldn't stop? That was the _Stop or I'll call the cops_ voice. That was the _Stop or I'll bust a cap in your ass_ voice. That was the voice of someone who wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of you -- in a dark alley, or in broad daylight in front of In and Out Burger. It was sexy as hell. Seth would never be able to sound so dangerous; he'd giggle and ruin it.

"What does that mean?"

She turned around again, and now it was his turn to have his arms crossed, spoon and carton still in hand, but abandoned. Low blow: "If you don't keep your voice down, the Cohens are going to come out here and find you half-naked and eating their ice cream."

"I'm allowed to eat their ice cream. I live here. I'm allowed to walk around half naked. I live here. Don't you think they're going to be more concerned about you roaming their halls?"

"Proud rather than concerned, I think." Still even. "After all, Seth wasn't exactly a social butterfly until I showed up."

"And now he's still not. Unless we're back to our original question about you and Summer."

"And you and Marissa?" Men should not look that good when angry. Anna didn't actually know anything about his relationship with Marissa except for what Marissa had confided in her in the bathroom at the party -- and, of course, what Seth had told everyone. He didn't need to know that.

"You first."

Anna hesitated. Truth or glib lies? _Honesty is the best policy_ , lectured her grandmother. "I broke the pact."

Ryan's eyes were almost slits, he was staring at her so hard. She tilted her head and lifted her chin. _I dare you_ , she said to him silently. _Tell me the truth too._

"I don't love her."

Anna nodded, and Ryan took another spoonful of ice cream, sucked it off the spoon, and flicked his tongue out to touch his lips. Anna blinked.

"I figured."

"So you said."

"Why did you say it if you don't feel it? It's only going to hurt her."

"She's too fragile."

"That's not a good reason. You're just enabling her."

"I can't be responsible for her being unhappy."

"That is the stupidest thing I ever heard." Anna shook her head. "If she can't deal with reality, then _you_ aren't the reason she's unhappy."

"You just don't understand."

"I do too understand." She paused. "You aren't doing her any favors by telling her that you love her when you don't. It will just come back and be worse later on."

"No -- I -- "

"What, you're hoping she'll fall in love with Oliver and break up with you so that you don't have to do it? That's also the stupidest thing I've ever heard. That's like -- like bad faith. It's bad logic. Now she thinks you love her, that you want to build a future with her -- "

"We're in _high school_!"

"You don't think she's thinking about babies? You raced across town to kiss her at midnight, showed up right as she was going to fall into Oliver's arms, right? And now you think she's not dreaming that you're her white knight, come to save her from her parents?"

"What do you know about it anyway?"

"Clearly more than you do." Anna shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I'm leaving."

"Look -- don't -- don't say anything to Seth or Summer, okay?"

"I can keep secrets." She raised her eyebrows at him again. _A taste of your own medicine_ , she thought in her grandmother's voice. "Are you going to tell Summer about me and Seth?"

"I think Seth will probably do that for himself," replied Ryan.

Anna couldn't help it -- she had to smile. Ryan was totally right. Even though Seth had promised he wouldn't tell anyone, she knew he would. How could he keep it to himself? Every feeling he had was writ across his face in neon lights.

And she'd known it. She didn't like keeping secrets, had never done it purposefully. Why would she? Life was easier when there was nothing for people to use against you, nothing one would rather keep quiet than see broadcast on the six o'clock news. If she hadn't been willing to let the war between herself and Summer resume, if Seth wasn't worth the stress, then Anna would never have left the party to go to the Cohens'. Or she'd have left the party and come to the Cohens' and they would have stayed on opposite sides of his room all night, watching the ball drop, watching a lame movie, doing something that wasn't writhing around on his bed trying to suck each others' lips off.

She wouldn't have unbuttoned his pants, and he wouldn't have run his hands up her thighs, and she would never have bitten his chest, and he would never have knawed at her nipples through her shirt.

Just thinking about it made her spine hot.

But he'd stopped her, taken her hand off the front of his pants and moved it back up to his shoulders, even while he was holding her ass with his other hand.

"While we're having the sharing and caring time, you could share what put _that_ look on your face," said Ryan, offering her the spoon.

She took it, licked the ice cream off, savored the strawberry flavor, then opened her eyes to look back at him. "Just Seth."

"Seth or sex?"

"A little of both." And it was Seth's fault. She wouldn't be fascinated by Ryan eating ice cream if Seth had bothered to even just _touch_ her. All she needed was an orgasm. All she needed was a finger. One finger. A tongue. One tongue. All the flush of desire returned full force, and she cursed herself for being so easy. Maybe it wasn't about Seth after all. Maybe this was about being _touched_.

"So it's a deal then?"

"I won't tell if you won't tell." Then: "Ryan?"

"Yeah?"

"I think you should tell her. She's too much like your mother."

"What do you know about my mother?"

"Only what Seth told me. But..."

"But what?"

"Come on -- it's common knowledge. We all know what happened. We all feel shitty for you. Don't pretend we're all stupid Newport brats."

"I know you're not a stupid Newport brat. You're just a brat."

She swatted at his arm, but smiled. He wasn't smiling.

"We should seal the deal," he said. "Somehow. So that neither of us will break the pact."

Another pact. At this rate, Anna would have made more blood oaths than. Than someone who played D&D religiously. Than a medieval lord. Than someone who _made_ blood oaths.

But he had a point. And she said as much.

"I know." He pointed the spoon at her. "I'm more worried about you than I am about me."

"I don't tell other peoples' secrets," she said.

"But how do I know that?"

"How do I know that you won't tell my secret?"

"Exactly. A pact. Like the one you made with Summer. But with consequences for breaking it, consequences worse than Summer's wrath."

"What's worse than Summer's wrath?" Anna took the spoon from him and took another scoop of the ice cream. His body was radiating heat. Unlike Seth's body, which radiated only nervous energy and tension. Ryan was tense, but it was the tense of someone who was ready to have a fistfight, not the tense of someone who was bouncing off the ceiling on a sugar high. The heat of his skin made her feel dizzy.

She sucked on the spoon before she handed it back to him.

She was sucking on a spoon in the middle of the Cohens' foyer. There was something wrong with this picture.

"I have an idea." He stuck the spoon back into the ice cream and set it on the floor. She just stood there.

 _He's going to kiss you_ , said her brain. Her grandmother's voice, with its insults carefully hidden inside platitudes, was no where to be found.

"And what's that?" Lame reply, but her mind was slowly shutting down.

"This." Cliché, but okay, since his hands were on her face, his palm almost as big as the entire side of her head, and his head was closer to hers and his breath was hot on her mouth. If he breathed on her for five minutes, she'd come. She would. She was that hot, and his mouth hadn't even touched hers yet.

 _This is Seth's own fault_ , she said to herself before she closed her eyes and the distance between their mouths.

Seth's mouth was always cool, his lips always soft and pliable under hers, and he always tasted like Seth. Never like anything he'd eaten. He tasted like kinetic energy.

Ryan tasted like strawberries -- hot strawberries. Body-heated strawberries. And cream. And slickness. And sex, hard and fast in an alley somewhere, with her arms splayed against a wall, feeling cold brick under her fingers as her entire body pushed down onto his.

She bit his lower lip. He pulled her closer, until their bodies bumped, and pulled his mouth away. "Is this going to be a problem?"

She lifted her chin, tried not to think about how good he felt against her. All she'd wanted was Seth Cohen's hips against her own, but he wanted to wait, he wanted it to be right, wanted to plan it, wouldn't give in even a little -- and now she was being whirled around, pressed against the wall of the Cohens' foyer, Ryan Atwood's hand on her back and his chest against hers, and her leg twining with his and his mouth just a breath away. Because Anna wanted an orgasm.

She opened her mouth to tell him that there was no problem, there wasn't going to be a problem, there was no this, they were just making a deal -- but he kissed her again, tongue inside her mouth, rough and hard, and nothing like Seth, and if he just pushed her a little further everything would coalesce and spiral and she'd be okay again, able to think straight, able to realize that this wasn't something she should be doing, especially in the Cohens' foyer! In the same house in which her boyfriend -- boyfriend? Secret lover? They weren't doing any loving, though. Secret _kisser_ \-- was sleeping. Had fallen asleep kissing her.

And while that was nice, and spoke of being comfortable with each other, it was kind of. Insulting. She knew he _wanted_ her -- but she didn't know it the way she _knew_ Ryan _clearly_ wanted her. Ryan, who was twisting his hips against hers and nipping at her mouth to get her attention.

Ryan who had smoothed his hand down her thigh and lifted her leg up by the knee, and wrapped it around his waist, and Anna tottered a little on one high, high heel, but pushed her hips out and balanced by leaning on him. Ryan, whose jeans had a seam down the front where the zipper was, and that seam was rubbing against Anna, and she was going to cry if he didn't just twist into her a little harder.

Her eyes were closed and their mouths were fused together, and his hand was over her breast, and her fingers were digging into his shoulders and back, slick with sweat and heavy with muscle, and there was a ridge where his spine was, and her nails sunk into his skin. He grabbed her hands in his, pulled them over her head and pushed them against the wall, and she was being held up only by his mouth on hers and his hips pushing into her, and she pulled her head back and gasped, "Yes, please -- "

And he pulled away.

Wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand.

Picked up his ice cream and spoon from the floor.

Her legs were spread, and her arms were still above her head as if his hands were still holding her, and her hips were cocked out at an obscene angle, and she was panting. She couldn't catch her breath. She was on fucking fire, burning alive, immolation incarnate, and he was standing there like he didn't have an erection the size of the fucking Empire State Building.

"So we have a deal, then." He lifted an eyebrow at her, turned around, walked out of the foyer, out of the house. He let the door slam behind him.

Anna sank to the floor and pushed a hand through her hair.

"Fuck him, then," she said, but couldn't work up any real bitterness. Her stomach felt hollow and her legs were trembling. She bent her knees up, tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and remembered the way he twisted his hips right up against hers, pushing just a little, holding her against the wall, lips hard on hers. She slid her hand down between her legs, into the slick folds -- she was so wet. Had she ever been so wet? Had Seth ever made her so wet? But Seth never had the lure of the forbidden, was never someone she shouldn't touch, despite her pact with Summer.

All it took was ten seconds. She held her breath, tensed her stomach muscles, rubbed her finger around her clit in small, furious circles, and came on a sigh. She wiped her finger on the inside of her skirt -- the entire outfit was so crumpled, it would have to be dry cleaned anyway. She stood up, collected her purse, rubbed her nose, and sighed a little.

She entertained herself on her walk home imagining ways to get her own back on Ryan -- cornering him in the pool house. Pulling him into a janitorial closet at school. The bathroom at a party. On her knees, the cold of tile seeping through her nylons, her nails digging into his ass, his cock in her mouth. And then, just as he was about to come, gasping, his fingers pulling her hair, his hips jerking involuntarily, she'd pull away. She'd have to time it right, or he'd come all over her face, but to just leave him standing there with his dick hanging out of his pants?

She'd need more self-control than she had, though. She'd need self-control like his. To just leave her there, against the wall...

It was for the best. She knew it. He was right to leave her there, to leave her wanting more -- because if he'd given her more, they'd both feel guilty. Then, instead of having a RyanandAnna secret, they'd have RyanandAnna guilt, and they would feel bad, and they would want to tell.

But to leave it like this. Ryan was right to do it. To leave it like this meant they'd be angry with each other and with themselves, and restlessly aroused, but they wouldn't tell. She wasn't going to tell. He wasn't going to tell.

Still, Anna dreamed that night about being fucked up against a wall, arms stretched over her head, hips and thighs bruising from the force, mouth chapped and sore, legs wrapped around the waist of someone whose face faded from Ryan to Seth and back again, and woke up burning, her hand tucked between her legs, tears drying on her face.

  



End file.
